


If Forever Never Happens

by Oaklin



Series: Forever Everything [88]
Category: International Wrestling Syndicate, Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Bad Friendship, Beige Prose, Codependency, Good Friendship?, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Mutual Pining, Purple Prose, Swearing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Friendship, Unhealthy Relationships, fluff?, obligatory Kevin Steen warning, stealth shipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-17 15:02:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14191551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oaklin/pseuds/Oaklin
Summary: This is it.This is what they have all been waiting for.Why doesn't it feel like anyone thought it would?





	If Forever Never Happens

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> Here we are, at the height of 2006 indies drama, full to bursting with teenage angst and furious jealousy. What a wonderful time that was, to be alive. I have been having such a damn nostalgia trip, stumbling through old matches, re-watching shit that I haven't seen in literal years. Hell of a weekend to be doing it too, what with all the current day wrestling shenanigans going on this WM weekend. I might actually have to tune into WWE, although I have not watched a WrestleMania since like 2012. I feel like I'm not missing much, but maybe that is unfair. I do keep up with my little flippy indie vanilla midgets though, as usual, which means I am up to date on all the Daniel Bryan stuff, which equal parts scares me and concerns me. For the record, their will be more of The American Dragon in this series, eventually. We just have to get passed this bullshit first ^.^

They stagger unsteadily over the threshold of the motel, ragged and weary, covered in dirt and sweat. The first thing Kevin does is take his drenched shirt off, tossing it to the floor with a disgusted hiss. Sami doesn’t move from the doorway for a minute, just standing there in the weak lamp light, looking pale and drained.

It should have been easy.

This whole Thing should have been over long ago.

Kevin feels a stab of something he refuses to label guilt claw its way up his throat, almost making him choke out an apology, if not for his utter inability to speak into the devastated silence of their pyrrhic victory.

It was supposed to be much simpler than This.

 _This_ is not what he wanted.

 **This** is not what **_anyone_ ** wanted.

 _-don’t always get what you_ **_want_ ** _the way_ **_you_ ** _want it-_

 _-you_ **_know_ ** _that-_

Still.

(does it have to be so…)

Suffocating?

“Glad that’s over,” Kevin mutters, more to himself than to the hollow husk formerly known as Sami, who doesn’t respond to Kevin’s grumbling. Kevin watches the dulled light from within Sami, its flickering, faded glory dulled in the murky motel room, the glimmer of his resplendence weak and tarnished. Kevin swallows hard at the sight, kicking off his boots just to give himself something else to look at, his grubby socks leaving filth across the faded carpet as he goes back over to the door.

Sami twitches a bit, moves obediently when Kevin puts a hand on his shoulder. Kevin’s breath hitches, the frigid skin of Sami’s bicep making his heart pound in his chest, as he tosses his filthy sneakers back out onto the porch. Pulling himself back inside, shutting the door firmly on the harsh realities of the outside world-

(just for a bit)

(just _silence_ and…)

**_-us-_ **

(if we could **just-** )

**_-forever-_ **

-Kevin squeezes Sami’s arm, hoping for some facsimile of comfort, Sami’s tired, dull eyes sluggishly rising to meet his after an aching heartbeat.

“Yeah,” Sami softly replies to no one and nothing, his voice hoarse and brittle, as if his words are even too much for him to handle. Kevin flinches involuntarily at the lilt in Sami’s voice, cringing away from the way it sounds thin and ragged, like Sami’s words are made from colorfully delicate streamers held together by broken friendships and abandoned dreams.

**_(this was supposed to be easy)_ **

_-nothing ever is-_

(at least…)

It’s over.

_-for now-_

**(forever)**

_-you wish-_

“Are you-” Kevin realises he has no idea where he is going with such a ridiculous question. He stops himself before he manages to utter such idiocy, biting down on his bottom lip and pressing his eyelids closed, his jaw clenching with all of the inane platitudes that are attempting to break his ribs from the inside out.

Sami doesn’t acknowledge the start of Kevin’s dumbass inquiry, he just presses his skin to Kevin’s hand, clinging to the contact for the barest of heartbeats, before Sami shakes his head lethargically and starts to toddle unsteadily across the room, towards the small, uncomfortable looking bed.

There was a hesitation as Sami moved, a stilted, jagged stumble in his step as he moved. He slogged  his way over to the hotel bed like he was moving through molasses, his gait slow but calculated, precise but numb, like Sami was a robot that had only been _told_ how humans were supposed to move and act. The whole thing came together in one bizarre, disturbing visual, leaving Kevin to stand haplessly by the door to the room, wondering what exactly he was getting himself into.

_-already balls deep in it-_

_-might as well go whole hog-_

(not)

(bad idea)

_-yeah-_

(so-)

**_-so what?-_ **

_-_ **_always_ ** _been a Bad Idea-_

 _-never stopped_ **_you_ ** _before-_

“Sami, I’m gonna go grab some ice from down the hall.” Kevin tries not to grumble the words, but they come out of his mouth like he has been gargling rocks all day long, his voice raspy and rough. He coughs softly, grimacing as he chokes on the bitterness and regret that seems to be permeating the room like it is a physical entity, out to suffocate the both of them.

Sami, for his part, doesn’t even make the slightest attempt to acknowledge Kevin’s words, merely remaining face down on the crappy motel sheets, he breathing audibly ragged and his shoulders trembling against the bed. Kevin purses his lips, trying again.

“I might also stop by Pierre’s room for a bit. See how his ribs are holding up.”

Sami just silently shakes his head into the rough fabric that he has buried himself in, a gentle sniffling emitting from him that sets Kevin’s teeth on edge. Kevin only just stops himself from snapping angrily, the invisible tension in the room almost unbearable, his eyes burning with the intense desire to-

**_-to what?-_ **

_-nothing to be_ **_done-_ **

_(need-)_

_-not about what_ **_you_ ** _need-_

 _-he_ **_needs-_ **

(make him _forget_ )

 _-..._ **_might_ ** _work-_

_-got any ideas, genius?-_

“...and I’m heading over to Five Guys, getting some lunch… **dinner** \- _whatever_. You want anything?” the only response is a choked groan, Sami barely shifting on the bed, as if the burden of the last few hours is sitting so heavily on his little pale shoulders that he can barely move under the immense wight.

Kevin can’t stand the **_Silence._ **

“Sami.”

“I’m not hungry.”

 _-at least that was_ **_words_ ** _and not_ **_sobs-_ **

(progress?)

_-don’t get ahead of yourself-_

The shitty, low quality sheets are uncomfortable, scratchy under his palm, as Kevin gingerly lowers himself to the bed, the cheap springs protesting both of their weight. He ignores the wailing of the furniture, and the ringing in his own ears, something about the way those words came out of Sami’s mouth making Kevin’s whole world shrink down to the void left in the room by melancholy and palpable heartbreak.

A palpable heartbreak that leaves Kevin bereft for a long, agonizing moment, unsure where to look, dithering about whether or not he should raise his hands off of the stained sheets and put his fingers to Sami’s ice-cold skin. Sami isn’t making the decision any easier, laying there on the bed like a lifeless shell of his former self, every spark of passion and joy that he usually exudes like torrential rain in a hurricane drained, along with his typical resplendence.

Kevin doesn’t know what to _do._

_-afraid?-_

(...maybe)

Wait

_-what?-_

_-...shit-_

“I-” Kevin swallows hard, his voice sounding strange to his own ears, like it is coming from across the room, the tone all wrong, his throat aching and the backs of his eyes stinging. He buries one hand in the scratchy sheets to ground himself, reaching out with the other and placing a trembling hand on freezing freckled skin, bracing himself as he tries to find words.

Any words would do.

(just say _something-)_

“I didn't do it for you.”

Kevin startles, pulling his eyes away from staring hard at the wall, to blink down at Sami’s now upturned face, in confusion. Sami’s gaze is focused now, like a trained laser, pinning Kevin where he sits, frozen on the bed, shivering in the icy hollowness of the motel room. Kevin opens his mouth, ready to protest such an obvious lie, to call Sami out on the biggest piece of bullshit to ever fall out of his pretty, soft looking lips, but Sami cuts him off before Kevin can do so.

“I **didn't.** This whole thing was… not what I wanted it to be. I never wanted-” Sami falters, his voice cracking as he struggles. He bites down on his lip, fat tears threatening to spill over the corners of his eyes. He fights Kevin’s hand off, his skin warming for a heartbeat under Kevin’s hand, as Sami becomes progressively more agitated.

Sami sits up, a defiant, furious look on his face for a breath before it crumples, just like he does, wrapping his arms around himself with a drenched sob.

“Fuck. No, I-” Sami’s eyes drift closed, those tears escaping their prison, breaking down the dam of Sami’s tenuous self control and plummeting down the plains and valleys of his cheeks. “That is a lie. This is exactly what I wanted?”

Kevin blinks, breath heavy, the room temperature notching back up to where he is comfortable.

He just wishes Sami’s mood would join it.

“Well, good? We… won, so you should feel that way. Winning is **supposed** to feel good. It _should_ feel like you got everything you wanted when you win-” Kevin’s brain stutters for some reason, trying to remember what Sami won- what _they both_ won, for a confused moment. He shakes himself, blinking through his own befuddlement and trying to string together a coherent thought that won’t come out like dribbling piss. _**“-a match.**_ We won the match. That is a Good Thing.”

Sami makes a distressed noise, looking fretfully at Kevin, a pleading note in his voice that Kevin has no answer for. “It doesn't feel like it? But it does. Somehow. How does that makes sense?” Kevin has no answer for that either, so he just shrugs helplessly, wishing all these questions with no resolutions would fuck off.

Sami looks down, scooting towards Kevin slightly, their knees brushing up against each other as he moves. “I got everything I wanted today, and I don’t even feel bad about it? God, I am the worst friend in the entire world.”

“I think you’re a pretty okay friend,” Kevin says, trying not to sound defensive. Something wild and vicious rears up in his gut, and he impulsively reaches out, gripping the front of Sami’s shirt and forcing those eyes to meet his, the air tense around them, though Sami actually smiles, albeit self-deprecatingly.

Sami laughs softly, wiping harshly at his face with both hands. “To you, and only you, apparently.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed, and have a happy WrestleMania Weekend!


End file.
